1. Do not hasten against me, for after today there is still tomorrow,
And tomorrow the poems will be prepared for you.

2. To leave the scoundrel unharmed is a flaw upon the honorable man and a disgrace,
You have set sail in an ocean of ignorance, intoxicated,

3. And ignorance in some delights is poison.
So drink, for you will know that it is a cup,

4. That mars one's honor with intoxication.
The choice of speech has come to you in fragments,

5. The shoulders of the poem helped by maids.
A rock that will deafen both your ears,

6. Until you see that the ear is a secret.
Poetry in which poison is infused but does not fall,

7. An amount that corrupts it but no fingers.
Delusions, whenever I want, are my witnesses,

8. That you did not have a perfumer father.
Do not think that I have lightened up out of passion,

9. And lightness, passion in you, is dignity.
Two who cannot be trusted in severity,

10. I when my anger burns, and the fire.